


Blood and Newspapers

by Secret_Vampire_User



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Got the idea from tumblr blogs I follow, Idk it’s my first fic that I’m posting here. Hope you like it thanks for reading, M/M, human hotch, vampire foyet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:02:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25840033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secret_Vampire_User/pseuds/Secret_Vampire_User
Summary: Aaron Hotchner is an aspiring newspaper reporter. George Foyet is a bartender. What happens when murders occur and George is a witness? Hijinx I guess. I’m writing this one chapter at a time.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/ George Foyet
Comments: 6
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I’m kinda a mutual on a few tumblr blogs and they talk about Vampire Foyet a lot so I decided to write it for them. Thank you for reading and a special shout it to all the blogs I follow (if they allow me to I’ll give them proper shout outs). Enjoy!

I walked down the street alone. It was night, it was cold, and it was quiet. As I passed an alleyway I heard sounds of a struggle. I turned on the flashlight on my phone and pointed it down the alley. Chills ran down my spine. I had a bad feeling about this, but I continued my investigation anyway. 

“Hello?” I called out. I see two eyes shining in the moonlight and watch as they blink slowly. I was hoping to hear a cat meow, but all I heard was a dull thud. Like a body hitting the ground. Footsteps came toward me and I, being too scared to stick around to find out who it was, ran. I ran to my apartment building, through the doors, up the stairs, and to my door. I fumbled with my keys. 

“Oh, good morning, Aaron,” my neighbor’s voice calls. I look behind me at the door across the hall. 

“Morning, Mrs. Smith,” I reply, finally jamming the key into the lock. 

“Another late night, dear?”

“Yes ma’am. I’m trying to work my way up to publisher.”

“Tired of being Dear Aaron?” 

“Yes ma’am,” I say as I open my door and place my bag inside the door. “I’m working on a story about the disappearances and murders. I’m trying to find out if they’re connected.” 

“Just be careful, dear. Have a good sleep,” Mrs. Smith says as she makes her way down the hall. I bid her farewell and walked into my apartment. She is right. I am tired of being ‘Dear Aaron’. Giving relationship advice when I’m not in a relationship myself. These murders were interesting to say the least. The bodies would always have their arms crossed across their chest, two puncture wounds in their necks, and their body completely drained of blood. People are speculating that vampires are to blame, but vampires don't exist. 

“Just some kind of Cullen wannabe,” I mutter to myself as I shed my clothes. I showered quickly and fix my hair. I quickly dress in nice clothes and set off to a diner across town. I’m meeting someone for breakfast. I’m interviewing him for my story. 

“Hi, Mr. Hotchner. I’m George Foyet and I got us a table,” a man says as soon as I enter the diner. 

“Thank you, Mr. Foyet, but please call me Aaron. Mr. Hotchner was my father,” I say shaking the man’s hand. We make our way to the table. 

“Call me George.”

“Alright, George. What can you tell me about these women?” I ask, placing pictures of three women on the table. 

“Hi, what can I get for you?” The waitress asks, popping up from seemingly nowhere. 

“Just a coffee for me, miss,” George says, giving her a rather radiant smile. 

“I’ll have the same. Thank you,” I answer, watching George’s smile turn to a look of slight lust. She jots down our orders and bounces back to the counter. My eyes follow her, but my attention is brought back to the man across from me when he clears his throat. 

“I recognize the red head. I think her name was Ali Chambers. She was kind of a regular at the bar. These two are not as familiar. The blonde has been to the bar a couple of times. The one with blue hair only came in once. At least, once when she had blue hair.”

“Do you remember who they talked to? Danced with? Who bought them a drink?” I ask. George answers all my questions as we drink our coffee. We stand up to leave. 

“Please, allow me,” I say when I see George reaching for his wallet. 

“No, you don’t have too.”

“Please, it’s the least I can do. Dragging you out of bed so early to answer questions that the police have probably asked you countless times.”

“Fine, but I pay next time. Or you could stop by my bar some night. You can get a drink on the house.” 

“That’s very kind of you. I’ll try to come by sometime,” I say, holding the door open for him. He thanks me and starts walking to his car. 

“Hotchner,” he calls as I am about to round the corner. 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you think what killed those people is really what people are saying? Vampires?” He looks a little worried. I chuckle and shake my head. 

“No. Simply because vampires don’t exist.”

I walk home, briefcase in hand. I sit at my desk for hours, writing my story, doing more research, and thinking about the man I interviewed. I remember the way his hands looked holding the coffee and his lips as he drank. His smile just about knocked the wind out of me. He was a very handsome man. I only stand from my desk when the call for food is too strong. I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday and I haven’t slept in almost thirty six hours. The combination of the two have me lightheaded and feeling very strange. I make myself a sandwich and eat it slowly. I crawl into bed and fall asleep before my head hits the pillow. 

“Aaron? Aaron, wake up!” I hear a familiar voice call. I open my eyes to see Mrs. Smith standing by the foot of my bed. More like being held. I can’t see the person holding her. Their face is obscured by a hood. I jump up to grab her, but I’m pushed back by the being. I’m unable to move from my spot against my dresser. I’m frozen in place. I watch helplessly as the figure holding my neighbor pulls down it’s hood. His hood. George Foyet. 

“No!” I exclaim as he bites Mrs. Smith’s neck. Her body slowly stops fighting before going completely limp. Blood runs down her neck and stains her pink nightgown. George drops her corpse onto the ground. He smiles at me, blood dripping from his mouth, coating his teeth. He licks his lips and kneels down in front of me. 

“Hello, Aaron,” he says, almost growling. Before I can blink, his hand is on my chin and turning my head to expose my neck. He leans in and I hear him inhale. 

“What do you want?” I ask as I hear him inhale again. 

“You smell amazing, pet. Good enough to eat,” I hear him say. I feel his hot breath on my neck. 

“Just make it quick,” I say and squeeze my eyes shut. 

“I never said I was going to eat you, baby. I want too, but I think I’m just going to tease it for now,” he says and lightly bites my neck. He picks me up and holds me close to his body. I feel his muscles under his clothes. His arms feel almost safe. 

“George,” I start, but I stop when he lifts me off the ground. 

“Goodnight, my prince,” he says and throws me across the room. 

I sit up with a start. I gasp for air and look around the room. I get up and walk to the kitchen. I drink some water and calm down. My mind wanders back to the dream. The way George growled and the way he looked. Now that I’m not terrified I find it kind of hot. He’s already attractive, but now with that dream I know I won’t be about to get him off my mind for a while. I sigh and walk back to bed. It was only four thirty and I don’t have to be at work until eight. 

“Good enough to eat,” I scoff and lay down. I guess I won’t be able to sleep now. I roll onto my stomach. I wish this dream would get out of my head so I can sleep a little more. I drift off to thoughts of George. He’s worried about vampires. I’m sure he was joking. Whatever the case it can wait until I wake up.


	2. Papers, Basketballs, and Bars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron in his life at the paper, work duties, and a fun time at a bar with JJ.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter this one is dedicated to Sammy and Jack for being so kind on the first chapter. I love both of your blogs and both of you! Also, I apologize if any of it seems incoherent. I haven’t gotten much sleep lately due to personal reasons, but I hope you enjoy.

I sit down at my desk and get ready for the day. I look across my desk and the desk pushed against the back of mine. My friend, JJ, is in her seat and we greet each other. She’s normally here before I am. I get to work opening emails from people needing advice. They’re mostly from desperate housewives wanting to spice up their sex lives. 

“Dear Aaron, my husband seems almost bored of me. He never wants to touch me anymore. I want him to notice me? Should I lose weight? Should I invite a friend into the bedroom? What should I do? Sincerely, BJ16 the lonely wife.”

I sigh and write back a generic response telling her to be safe if she wanted to lose weight, perhaps introducing toys would be okay, and to make sure her partner is okay with whatever she wants to try. I don’t know how we don’t get complaints about the sexual nature of these interactions. At this point it’s become second nature to write these things. To answer the same questions over and over again, but to just word it differently. It’s tiresome. 

“Hey, Hotch. Wanna come out with Will and I tonight?” 

“I don’t know, JJ. I kinda have things to do tonight.”

“Yeah, hanging out with me and Will,” JJ presses as she opens a bag of Cheetos. 

“If I want to move up in the paper I need to write good stories. I’m stuck answering the same question over and over. It’s just worded differently. I can’t stand it anymore, JJ. I’m just tired of it. You love sports and you get to write about them. Dave loves his reporter job. Hell, even Grant likes doing the weather and obituaries and whatever it is he does. Strauss hates me and that’s why I’ve been Dear Aaron for three years.”

“She doesn’t hate you, Aaron,” David Rossi says as he sits in the chair beside Aaron’s desk. 

“Then why have my desk here? In front of her office, so she can keep an eye on me like I’m a child. Why ride my ass about being better at answering questions? Why not let me have a chance?”

“What will you do if she doesn’t accept your story?” JJ asks.

“Quit and find someone who will take it.”

“Or you could start a blog,” Dave suggests. 

“She’s coming! Everybody stop having fun!” Grant Anderson yells as he tries to run to his desk with a cup of hot coffee. He trips over nothing and spills the coffee on his right shoulder, staining his blue button up shirt and red tie. Everyone is running to their desks and acting like they’re working. The elevator dings and out walks Erin Strauss. 

“JJ, there is some kind of sports game tonight. You’re on that. You have two tickets so take whoever you want. No getting out of it because whatever the other one’s name is decided to lay out again. Third time this year. She’s obviously a slacker. Anderson, the weather report was accurate. Good job. David, your story about the mechanics ripping off their customers was immaculate. Beautifully written. Aaron, your responses to the people’s questions are lackluster to say the least. Truth be told they’re abysmal. Work on it. The rest of you. Mediocre at best. Get to work. And Anderson,” she pauses for a moment looking at the man in question. 

“Yes ma’am?”

“Change your shirt,” she says and walks into her office, closing the door. I give JJ and Dave a look. 

“She’s really channeling her Miranda Priestly today, isn’t she?” JJ asks, crunching on a Cheeto. I chuckle and Dave rolls his eyes. 

“And with that I’m heading to my desk. Good luck with your endeavors, Hotch.” 

“Thanks, Dave,” I reply. I turn to start typing again when I hear a door open behind me. 

“Aaron, a word,” Strauss demands. I stand up from my chair and walk into her office. She doesn’t like people, but she really doesn’t like me. This was a constant thing. Her calling me into her office to tell me I’m doing something wrong or bad or whatever it was she wanted to tell me. She tells me the same story every time. I can recite it in my sleep. I got lost in thought as she told me the story of how her father started this company by himself and how when he died she vowed to him that she would never let the paper die. She always goes on to say that I am bringing the paper down with Dear Aaron. It’s comforting to know that your boss has no faith in you. I often wonder why I’m still here. 

“So, Aaron, what I’m trying to say here is that I’m going to have to let you go.”

“I’m sorry what?” 

“Well the Dear Aaron column isn’t doing as well as I had hoped. These past three years have just been you steadily declining in your work. And don’t think I don’t know about your little side projects. Dave turning them in for you, but you letting him take the credit. Dave is a wonderful writer and you’re not. It’s pathetic what you’re trying to do when you know you’ll never move up.”

“Because my writing is bad? You’ve published my work under Rossi’s name.”

“I’m trying to stay on his good side. He’ll quit otherwise.”

“I’ll clean out my desk,” I say as I stand. I walk to my desk and start packing my personal belongings. As I’m deleting my passwords and stuff from my computer I feel someone lean against my desk. I look up to see Strauss beside me. I finish what I’m doing and stand to leave. 

“I know you’re working on that story on the disappearances, so I expect the file to be emailed to me by tomorrow morning,” Strauss says. My eyebrows raise in disbelief. I exchange looks with JJ and Dave. 

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No. I don’t work for you anymore, you don’t and never have respected me, and you’ve always said my writing is pathetic. Why would I send it to you? So Rossi doesn’t have to go out looking for it?”

“No, Aaron-“

“Yes. You just told me that you want to stay on his good side. So he won’t quit. I’m assuming it’s because you want to get in his pants,” I say, glaring at my former boss. People around me are in shock. I, myself am in shock. I turn to the elevators. “Good day.”

“Hey, Hotch, you’re my plus one to the game tonight. Will can’t make it,” JJ calls out. I turn around and give her a thumbs up before I step on to the elevator. As the doors close I hear Strauss chastise JJ, who just turns and gives me a thumbs up. I smile behind the closed doors and lean against the wall. I can’t believe that just happened. 

The rest of the day consisted of me catching up on shows I’ve been meaning to watch. I get a text from JJ around three telling me what time she wants to meet. I dress and head for JJ’s apartment. 

“Why couldn’t Will make it?”

“His boss is making him close because apparently he has a date. I don’t know who’d date him. He’s a prick.” 

“We’ll go see him after the game. What sport is it again?”

“It’s basketball and the shop will probably be closed. We can go see him in the morning. He still has the opening shift too.” 

“What bullshit,” I say as I follow the gps directions to the location JJ put in. 

“Strauss is mad that I’m taking you with me.”

“I figured.” 

“She said that I can’t be friends with you and that I can’t take you with me. I told her that I’m an adult and she said I could take whoever I wanted,” JJ says sounding annoyed. 

“You’ve been wanting to quit. Why don’t you?”

“I need the money.”

“So do I but I have enough saved until I can-“

“Aaron, I’m looking for jobs, but I’m not leaving until I have one. Will is picking up extra shifts between interviews too,” JJ interrupts. She plays with her bracelet and stares out the window. 

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just mean that working with Strauss really stresses you out. It’s not good for you.”

“You were going to keep working there when it made you even more stressed than me.”

“I could handle it. Not to pry, but why is Will picking up more shifts?”

“Well, I was waiting until later, but I may be pregnant,” JJ says as I pull into the parking spot. I look at her in surprise.

“JJ, I’m so happy for you!” 

“Thanks, but I don’t know if I am. I have an appointment tomorrow. I’ll let you know. First thing after, okay?”

“I hope you are because I want to be a godfather,” I say pulling her into a hug. We get out of the car and walk inside. She leads me through a maze of people to the ticket booth. 

“Press,” JJ states confidently to the security guard. He nods once and lets us in. We walk to our seats in the back row. 

“I would’ve thought that we would have better seats,” I say looking around at the hundreds of people. 

“When Strauss got these tickets, she was such a bitch that they only let her have the back row. Only two other newspapers sit back here. Apparently their bosses suck too.” 

“Want me to help take pictures?” I ask. She nods and tells me she’ll give me credit. The game begins and I’m not sure what happened or who won. JJ pulled me through the crowd to the car. 

“I got a tip on a hot bar. Feel like going? I wanted to check it out for Jordan.”

“Sure. What’s it called?”

“Golden Boy.”

We walk into the bar and are greeted with the smell of sweat and alcohol. We go up to the bar and sit on the stools. A woman with black hair walks over. 

“Hi, what can I get for you?”

“Water please,” JJ answers immediately. I’m not sure what to get because I don’t drink much. “My friend here got fired today. What do you recommend?”

“How about whiskey?” A man with shoulder length wavy, curly hair asks.

“Sounds good. He’ll have that,” JJ chirps. The two smile and get our drinks. I sip on mine as JJ and I chat about possible jobs for me. 

“Ladies and Gentleman, I am so proud to present the love of my life. The most beautiful, talented, amazing dancer of all time. Miss Penelope Garcia!” A familiar voice rings out. I turn and see George walk off stage as a beautiful, busty, blonde woman struts onto the stage. Cheers erupts from the audience as the woman begins to dance. I notice the DJ watching her intently. 

“Hotch, see the DJ?” JJ asks and I nod. 

“That’s just Kevin. He’s harmless,” the lady bartender says as she leans on her elbows. 

“He’s had a crush on her forever. By the way, what kind of name is Hotch?” The other bartender asks. 

“My last name is Hotchner. I’m Aaron Hotchner, by the way.”

“And I’m Jennifer Jareau. My friends call me JJ,” my blonde friend greets. The man gives a little wave and the woman gives us a kind smile. 

“I’m Emily Prentiss. This is Spencer Reid.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Spencer says. George walks into my view behind Spencer. He’s getting a drink. He turns around and spots me. A smile spreads across his face. 

“Well, if it isn’t the star reporter of the Town Gazette?” He greets. 

“Former, actually. I got fired today.”

“What? Why would anyone sack you? I mean, your reporting on middle aged women and their marital problems is exquisite,” George says making wild gestures. 

“Wait,” Emily says, “You’re Dear Aaron. Or you were.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda glad that’s over. The boss was a pain.”

“Still my pain,” JJ chimes in. 

“And who is this radiant beauty?” George asks. JJ introduces herself as I turn back to the stage. The woman is kicking her legs, shimming, and shaking everything she can. She’s so graceful and mesmerizing. She finishes her set and takes a bow.

“Ladies and Gentleman, give it up for Penelope Garcia!” The DJ shouts over the crowd. JJ and I clap and turn around to the bar as normal club music starts playing. 

“Is this a Burlesque club?” JJ asks. 

“Not entirely. Penny does her set a few times a week. She works as our IT support and accountant. My partner brought her in,” George answers. 

“Speaking of. Here he is,” Emily says as a man makes his way through the bar. He holds himself like he’s better than everyone. George stands up from his spot, leaning on his elbows against the bar. He finishes his drink and looks at Emily.

“If he asks I’m in the back working.” 

“Okay,” Emily says, wiping down the bar. 

“Emily, Spencer, where’s George?” 

“Working in the back,” they say simultaneously. The man walks to the back and closes the door. The two bartenders exchange a look. We make small talk with them and other patrons the rest of the night. George and his partner emerged about an hour after they went in. George helps tend the bar and talks with us. 

“Last call!” Emily shouts at two thirty in the morning. 

“Oh, we should go,” I say, starting to stand. I stumble, but catch myself before I can fall. I look up to find JJ’s hands reaching for me and the three behind the bar showing concern. “I’m okay.”

“Maybe I should drive. No, no, I should definitely drive,” JJ says, holding her hand out for my keys. I hand them to her and almost fall again as I step toward her. 

“Sit down and get some water in you, boy,” George says as he places a glass of water on the bar. “You can walk out with the rest of us.”

“Georgie, baby, I’m heading out with Anita here. I’ll see you tomorrow,” the man from before calls to George. 

“Okay, have fun,” George says. He rolls his eyes as the man walks away. 

“When are you going to break it off with him?” Emily asks. 

“Yeah, it’s obvious Peter doesn’t care about you and you haven’t loved him for some time now,” Spencer adds. 

“Soon. I hope,” George says going to the register. The three clean up the bar as Kevin and Penelope collect money from the stage floor and around the stage. 

“Hey, boss,” a big muscular man says, walking up to the bar. “Everyone’s gone.”

“Did you walk people to their cars?” George asks. 

“Yes sir. Always do,” the man answers. George nods and walks into the back room which I’m now assuming is an office. 

“Guys, this is Derek Morgan. He’s our head of security. Derek is is Aaron Hotchner and Jennifer Jareau,” Spencer says, pointing to people when he says they’re names. 

“JJ,” I hear from beside me. I drink the water and lay my head on the table. “You okay?”

“Somehow I feel even more terrible,” I grumble. 

“Did someone have too much to drink?” Derek asks. 

“Yes, yes, he did,” JJ answers. 

“Hey, babygirl. I saw part of your set. You did great,” Derek says. 

“Thanks, chocolate thunder. I felt great up there tonight. Maybe because I had at least two sets of fresh eyes on me tonight. Hi I’m Penelope Garcia, brilliant IT tech and accountant by day and magnificent burlesque dancer by night. And you are?”

“Jennifer, but you can call me JJ. This mass of drunkenness is Aaron.”

“And I’m Kevin Lynch. I’m also an IT tech, but I DJ most nights we don’t have bands.”

“Hey, Pen or Kev, I need computer help. The rest of you hurry up and clean up. I’ll buy y’all lunch tomorrow,” I hear George’s voice call. I guess I dozed off because the next thing I know, I’m being shaken. 

“What?” I mumble. 

“It’s time to go,” JJ chuckles. I groan and throw my arm over my head. I feel hands grab me and pry me from the bar. I groan again and fall against the person holding me up. The smell of the person overwhelms my senses. Musky with a hint of something I can’t place. I feel woozy. 

“Come on, bucko. Let’s get you to the car, huh?” I hear George drawl. I stumble along with him as I try to hold myself up. “You had quite a few didn’t you?”

“I didn’t realize he was this upset about losing his job,” JJ says. 

“Who’s car is he going in?” I hear Derek ask from in front of us. 

“Mine,” George says. “Y’all come back tomorrow and get Aaron’s car, JJ.” 

“Thank you so much. If you don’t mind, George, can we stop by my place so I can grab clothes. I’m going to stay with him tonight in case he needs anything,” JJ asks. 

“Sure thing, doll,” George answers as he opens the door. I feel two sets of hands on me. One on my shoulders and one on my legs. I’m hefted into the car. I quickly get comfortable and drift off to sleep. I come to as I’m being carried up stairs. 

“Sorry this place doesn’t have elevators. I mean, it does but they’re always broken.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m pretty strong and I could use the exercise. I wonder if I could talk the super into letting my guys come over and take a look at it.”

“Your guys?” JJ asks as she opens the door. 

“Yeah, I also run an apartment complex.” 

“Bit of an entrepreneur, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” George chuckles. I feel his chest vibrate and I hear the low rumble in his chest. I get a feeling of blood rushing down my body. Damn my drunk self. I squirm out of his arms and fall to the floor. I feel the two looking at me. “I have a few businesses.” 

“That’s awesome,” JJ says, stepping into my apartment. I slowly get to my feet and stumble in. I turn back to George, who is still standing in the hall. I say something that vaguely sounds like ‘come in’ and he steps in. I start to fall, but I’m caught by two strong arms. 

“Let me go,” I command, trying to break free. 

“Buddy, you’re drunk. Let me help you get to bed, at the very least.” 

“No,” I grumble, but let myself go limp. George lifts me up. 

“Down the hall. Second door on your left.”

“Thanks, JJ,” George says as he starts walking. I nuzzle my face into George’s neck, trying to get comfortable. “I can feel your breath on my neck, Aaron. It’s distracting.”

“Distracting from what?”

“Getting you into bed without an incident,” George answers. I feel him search for the light switch. 

“The overhead light is shot. The lamp works though.”

“Alright, I guess I’ll just wing it,” he huffs. He walks toward my bed and lays me down. After a moment he leans over me to turn on the light. I open my eyes and for a brief second I saw George illuminated by the mixture of street lights and the moon coming in the window. I’m suddenly blinded and I squeeze my eyes shut. I open them again to find George inches above my face. He’s staring at me with a weird look. I feel the rush of blood again. 

“Thanks,” I say, staring into his eyes. He blinks quickly. 

“Uh, yeah, don’t mention it,” George says as he scrambles to get up. He loses his balance and falls. His shoulder landing where all that blood is rushing to. His face lands on my stomach. Thank goodness I didn’t think to change. “Sorry!”

“You’re fine,” I say, hoping he doesn’t sense the double meaning of the word. I feel his breath fan out across my stomach. I reach out and pull his arm to where he can sit himself up. I can’t tell if his arm is cold or if I’m just so embarrassed that I’m hot enough to make his skin feel cold. He gets to his feet and quickly makes his way to my door. 

“Night, Aaron,” George says and basically runs out the door. I mumble a ‘good night’ and think about what just happened. Did he know I have a hard on? Why is he with the guy he’s with? Does he like me? I wish he’d kiss me. And, just, take me now. I’m getting hotter thinking about it. Should I get myself off? If I’m awake in an hour I will. I roll to my side and stare at the moon out my window. 

“Screw it,” I say, unbuttoning my pants. “I won’t be comfortable otherwise.


End file.
